Waking Regrets
by Heiwako
Summary: Erandur is feeling cranky after a bad dream about his past. He ends up snapping at the Dragonborn and feels bad for it. Maybe some making up is in order? Semi-sequel to Forbidden Desire. Inspired by SKM.


This fic is dedicated to Fluttermoth who won my fanart contest on Deviant Art. She asked for me to fill a long neglected prompt on SKM.

Here's the prompt: One day my DB and Erandur were fighting vampires and Erandur was wounded pretty badly, so she tossed a healing spell at him. That is when this sweet and polite Priest of Mara snapped "I hope you're not expecting a thank you!" Hah! I had no idea he was so sassy!

Anyway - I am looking for a little hurt/comfort here. I would like to see a fill where Erandur gets snappy with a sensitive DB. DB gets their feelings hurt and somehow it leads to some make-up sex. :P

Any race/gender is fine. Bonus points for a more submissive DB. I never see Erandur top and I _know_ he has it in him...

* * *

_"We have no alternative. It's the will of Vaermina," Veren declared as he turned to the younger elf. "And what about you, Brother Casimir?" Fighting could be heard outside their chamber. The screams of both orcs and Vaermina devotees pierced the thick stone door. "Are you prepared to serve the will of Vaermina?"_

_"I've made my peace. I'm ready," Casimir lied, praying the others didn't hear the tremor in his voice._

_"Then it's decided," Veren nodded. "Brother Casimir, you must activate the barrier and release the Miasma. Let nothing stop you. Brother Thorek, we must remain here and guard the Skull with our lives if necessary."_

_"Agreed," Thorek said solemnly as he hefted his mace. "To the death."_

"_To the death," the other two intoned before Casimir turned away from his two dearest friends. He briefly thought about taking their hands, squeezing them, letting them know how much they mattered to him, but he knew that he never could. _

_Instead he raced through the twisting halls, avoiding conflict when he could and darting past the flashing swords and maces when he couldn't. Blood trickled from the prone, still bodies of both brethren and foe, flooding the floor of the temple as he ascended upwards._

"_Casimir, h-help me, please," a weak voice called. _

_The Dark Elf glanced down to the fallen figure of one of his brothers. The devotee's hood had fallen forward, obscuring his face, but a mortal gut wound was clear as the devotee's hand vainly tried to hold in his viscera. _

"_I can't," Casimir muttered weakly as he hurried forward. _

"_Damn you," the devotee rasped before losing his strength and falling face forward on the slick stone ground. "Damn your soul to hell."_

_The sounds of fighting, cursing, and dying were drowned out of Casimir's ears by the pounding of his own heart. He felt like his head was full of nothing but steady throbbing, the pressure great enough to make his skull explode. His throat felt too tight; he could barely breathe. His body was agony as he pushed himself to his limit._

_Finally, after an eternity of running, Casimir saw the pull chain that would activate the Miasma, a gas created by the priests of Vaermina that affected a deep sleep to help in their rituals. Said rituals would frequently last months or even years. Casimir had felt its touch more than once and each time had left him feeling like he was in a nightmare, appropriately enough, the whole time. _

_Sometimes devotees would awaken with their minds damaged. Others would returned deranged, and some would never awaken at all._

_Always before there had been someone available to contain the Miasma after the ritual was completed. But now they were using the Miasma as a last desperate maneuver to keep the Skull of Corruption safe. There would be no one to draw back the nightmare veil. It was likely they would die here, but not for many, many decades of the worst, tormenting terrors their minds could conjure._

_Casimir yanked the chain, his chest painfully tight as he heard the rasp of the metal against the stone. There was no turning back now. Already the air was becoming fogged with the almost living mist. Screams were dying off as the affected fell limply to the ground._

_The young elf knew that he should stay here. He should submit himself to his daedric prince. His whole life for as long as he could remember had been dedicated to Vaermina. Surely his death, slow and painful as it would become, should belong to her too!_

_But the doorway was there, a few feet away. The barrier wasn't completely in place. He could escape! He could live!_

"_Forgive me," Casimir whispered as his closed his eyes in shame, tears streaming down his face. "Forgive me, but I want to live!"_

_The barrier went up as he jumped through, sealing his old life away forever._

* * *

Erandur screamed as he finally woke from his dream. He jerked into a sitting position, his eyes wide with fear as he frantically took in his surroundings.

The sun was peaking over the mountain range, making the sky orange and pink as it started the day. Birds sang cheerfully as they took flight. The plains of Whiterun ran in all directions with no sign of threat for miles.

The night's fire was burning low with the dying orange embers crackling their last. Joldi murmured in her sleep before turning onto her side, facing away from him. Erandur breathed a sigh of relief that he had not awaken her. He didn't want to talk to the Dragonborn about his dream. The memory of it was still too raw, too personal.

Erandur pulled himself from his sleeping bag, immediately missing the warmth of the furs. His body ached, his joints throbbed miserably, and his head pounded with a searing headache. He was covered with sweat stinking of acrid fear. The sour stench made him gag slightly as he wetted a rag with water before rubbing it vigorously under his robes.

He scrubbed too hard, leaving his skin feeling tender and sore, but it was better than leaving any remaining film behind. On some level the priest knew he was trying to wash away his memories with the night sweats, but unlike his body his mind was left with the unpleasant remains of his dream. Vague images of memory clung, refusing to be brushed away like unwanted spider webs.

The sound of rustling caused Erandur to jump to his feet holding his mace with a white knuckled grip. He sighed a breath of relief when he saw that it was only Joldi waking. He watched with affection as the Nord youth stretched and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Morning, Erandur," she yawned, not bothering to cover her gaping pink mouth. "How do you feel about eggs and bacon for breakfast?"

"Sounds wonderful," Erandur said with a smile. "I'll make the toast."

There was a companionable silence as the two fell into their morning routine. Joldi hummed happily as she fried their meal over the embers while Erandur packed their older mer envied her easy nature, especially at times like these.

Joldi, in many ways, was a simple creature. She was satisfied living out of her saddlebags, traveling the Holds of her homeland while taking jobs helping the common people in the name of the Companions. Realizing that she was the Dragonborn hadn't made her vain or glory hungry. Instead, it seemed to fuel her desire to be a hero for the people when the world seemed Oblivion bent on consuming itself with war.

The priest of Mara liked how the redheaded woman didn't feel a need to fill the morning with pointless chatter. Although they had only been traveling together for a couple of weeks, they had already developed the closeness of people who had known each other for much longer. Frequently she would hand him a waterskin before he could ask her for it or they would ride quietly through a forest enjoying the beauty of nature without the need to talk about nothing. Evenings were frequently filled with laughter as Joldi would relate one adventure or another while they drank a bottle of mead over their fire before curling up in their separate sleeping bags.

"Where are we going today?" the Dark Elf asked as they saddled their horses.

"There's a nearby bandit camp," Joldi answered as she buckled on her Wolf armor. The Skyforged metal gleamed in the morning light. She glanced at the priest, a worried look on her face. "Jarl Balgruuf asked me to wipe them out. They've been a blight on the local farmers. If it's a concern, don't feel like you have to come. I'd understand. Your vow to Mara comes first."

Erandur smiled at her concern. Joldi was always doing little things like that, making sure she wasn't making someone uncomfortable or assuming something was fine just because she was accustomed to it.

"It is fine. The works of Mara are acts of mercy," Erandur assured her as he hefted his mace. "Bandits know nothing of pity or mercy. No need to show them any either."

"Excellent!" Joldi said with a grin. "Let's get to work then!"

* * *

Halfway through the bandit cave, Erandur regretted his decision to come along with Joldi.

The Dragonborn had boldly proclaimed her arrival to the camp, demanding that they either surrender to her as a proper representative of the jarl or send their leader to her for a duel of honor. After the bandits had mockingly laughed at her challenge, Joldi had eliminated most of them with a flurry of her two handed sword and some well placed Shouts. The rest, along with their leader, had retreated into their cave system, hoping to either hide from Joldi's righteous wrath or ambush her in the darkness and with traps.

Despite her heavy steel armor and huge weapon, Joldi ran with the endless energy of the young. Wearing only his priestly robes and mace, Erandur was having a hard time keeping up with her. He hadn't fought like this in a long time and his restless night was catching up on him. He found himself frequently panting breathlessly and sweating profusely as he vainly tried to keep up with the Dragonborn.

They had finally cornered the bandit leader like the rat he was. The man wore heavy steel armor and was wielding a shield and sword, making him almost impossible to harm. There were still two other bandits, one of which was a spellcaster. As Erandur prepared to cast a flame spell, the spellcaster hit him with a lightning bolt, throwing the Dark Elf onto his back, knocking the breath out of him.

"Erandur!" Joldi called out as he fell. The priest watched in horror as Joldi gave the bandit leader an opening when her attention was taken off the fight to look at him as he fell.

The bandit leader tried to take advantage of her distraction by attacking her. Erandur felt his heart in his throat as the blade flashed towards her throat, but the redhead was too fast and blocked his attack before incinerating him with a Fire Breath Shout. Without their leader to protect them, the other two bandits fell quickly to Joldi's blade.

"By Mara, are you okay?" Joldi cried as she turned to Erandur. He flushed with shame. He still hadn't managed to stand up yet, entranced by how quickly Joldi had dealt with the remaining bandits. The Nord gently touched his torso where the cloth was blackened from the bolt. She knelt by him, fishing out a healing potion. "Here, drink this. It'll make you feel better."

"I hope you're not expecting a 'thank you'!" Erandur snapped, his pride smarting as much as his backside. "It's not like I can't casting a healing spell myself!" He snatched the bottle out of Joldi's hand, not sure if he was going to down it or try to wait for his magicka regenerate enough to cast a healing spell. The lightning spell had left him drained and he was still shaking from the attack. "I can take care of myself, you know. I'm not some invalid. I'm a capable priest and not some coward or so old I'll just fall apart from the first fight!"

"Erandur?" she whispered, her expression wounded as she reeled back from his vicious tone. She gestured helplessly. "I-I'm sorry. You were hurt. I thought it would help."

"No, I should apologize," Erandur sighed, realizing that he had been yelling. He twiddled the bottle in his hands, unable to look at Joldi. His cheeks burned with shame as he regained his composure. "I was out of line."

"It's okay," Joldi said quietly. The priest thought he saw tears in her eyes, but she turned away before he could be sure. "We should get going."

The two left the cave quietly, but instead of the friendly mood of before, there was an oppressive weight between them. Whenever Erandur tried to speed up to walk beside Joldi, she would quicken her pace forcing him to walk about three paces behind her. He thought he heard the soft hitch of crying, but the creak of her armor made it impossible to be certain.

Once they were outside, Erandur was finally able to touch Joldi's shoulder to get her attention. His touch was as light and gentle as possible to let her know that he wasn't mad or startle her.

"I'm so sorry, Joldi," he said with a heavy sigh. "I should explain my reaction."

"You don't have to explain anything," Joldi said, finally facing him. Erandur's heart lurched with a painful clench when he saw her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. She had definitely been crying. "I understand the heat of battle can affect people, especially right after. I know I was a bit sulky when I first joined the Companions and Vilkas would stomp me to the ground after only two or three hits in front of everyone." She shrugged, trying to play it off. "It's nothing."

"No, it is something!" Erandur insisted. "I want to tell you. I need to tell someone." He paused, feeling like the world's biggest skeever dropping. "If you're willing to listen that is."

"Of course, I want to listen!" Joldi exclaimed. She gave Erandur a big bear hug. "You're one of my dearest friends. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me, I want to know!"

Erandur blushed as he was engulfed in Joldi's embrace. She was almost a head taller than him, so her ample chest was very close to his face. Thankfully, her armor covered her thoroughly. He wiggled in embarrassment.

"Let's clean up the bodies, set up camp, and I'll tell the very sad life story of Casimir, Vaermina devotee and coward," he said sardonically.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly as they straightened up the bandit camp. The two of them worked quickly but respectfully as they gathered the corpses and piled them together on one side of the camp's yard. They might have been bandits in life and deserved no mercy for their crimes, but Mara also taught compassion and it would have been disrespectful to leave the bodies to decay and the appetites of scavengers.

Despite the nervous fluttering of his heart, Erandur felt more at peace as he performed Mara's works. Saying prayers over the departed as they lined the bodies next to each other brought him as much peace as when he meditated in the evenings.

There was a warmth at embracing Mara that flooded his body every time he spoke a prayer in her name. It was the same feeling he had when he first accepted her love and chose to become her priest.

Joldi stood reverently next to him as he finished his prayers, the last one dedicated to Arkay, the god of death. Without a word, Joldi set the torch to the first linen wrapped form and walked down the line, setting each one aflame.

Soon the sickening sweet smell of human and elf flesh filled the air, reminding Erandur of some of the worst experiments he had helped perform for Vaermina. He couldn't stop himself from shaking until Joldi placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, let's go set up the tent and make dinner," she said gently as she pulled him close. "If you don't mind, I figured we'd have a simple vegetable stew tonight. I don't have much of an appetite after killing people, and I find the thought of meat after a funeral a bit stomach turning."

Erandur simply nodded before following Joldi to where they had left the horses grazing. The heat of the funeral pyre had left him sweating, but he still felt the bitter cold in his bones as they moved away.

"When I say that Thorek and Veren were my brethren, I don't mean that they were only fellow members in the Vaermina cult," Erandur said. The meal was over and the campfire crackled merrily. The Dark Elf sat as close as he dared to the heat, his arms wrapped around his knees as he stared deeply into the flames. "I was recruited as an acolyte of Vaermina as a young elf. I had no real childhood to speak of... we weren't permitted to socialize. So the only people I grew close to were the other young elf acolytes. In many ways, Thorek and Veren were my adopted brothers too.

"We grew up together, learning all the things young men learn while dedicating ourselves to the daedric prince... and subsequently learning dark rituals that involved very unsavory acts that I won't go into detail about here." Erandur closed his eyes as he sighed heavily. "I've done a lot of... questionable things in my life. Serving Vaermina was a horrible mistake, and I hope Mara will forgive me one day."

Joldi edged close enough to take his hand and squeeze it, but she didn't interrupt with any questions or anecdotes of her own. She seemed to understand that he wasn't done and if she said something now that he wouldn't be able to finish.

"I've always felt a great deal of guilt running from Nightcaller Temple and leaving my friends to die. I'll never forgive myself for that," Erandur said after a long silence. "I should have stayed down there with them. I should have been brave enough, dedicated enough to them-if not Vaermina-to brave the Miasma. You can't call someone 'brother' and then abandon them the first sign of hardship.

"After running from Nightcaller Temple, I wandered Skyrim for years until I was taken in by a priest of Mara who lived in Morthal," Erandur remembered with a bitter smile. "I had the worst nightmares the entire time. Vaermina's punishment, you see. I had ran away because I couldn't face the thought of enduring the Miasma's torments, and Vaermina decided to visit that very punishment onto me every night. You have to appreciate a daedric prince's sense of humor at times."

Joldi wrapped her arms around Erandur and hugged him as she wiped the tears away from his face. He rested his head on her shoulder, enjoying the soft cloth of the dress she had changed into after they had set up camp.

"After I accepted Mara's embrace, I stopped having the nightmares, but I knew I had to right the last wrong I had done. That's why I went back to Nightcaller's Temple," Erandur said when he could continue. He looked up into Joldi's shining green eyes. "I don't know what persuaded you to assist me when we met in Dawnstar, but I'm glad you did. I never would have been able to face those trials on my own. I was able to finally put my friends to rest and to remove the Skull from the mortal plane." He rubbed his head, trying to chase away the headache that was starting. "Unfortunately, I've started having the old nightmares again. They always leave me feeling irritable and disconnected."

"Is it Vaermina again?" Joldi whispered grimly.

"No," Erandur chuckled sourly. "I'm a mortal and all mortals dream, whether it be pleasant or horrid. I just can't let go of my greatest regret. I ask myself over and over if I have truly earned penitence. Can I ever repay the debt of betrayal? Am I a good man?"

"You are a good man," Joldi said firmly. "In the time we've known each other, I've seen nothing by kindness and compassion from you."

"It's easy with someone like you as a companion," Erandur said, blushing at Joldi's praise.

"I'm no innocent," Joldi snorted. "I've done my fair share of things I've regretted in my past, I promise you." She paused, nibbling her lip as she decided on what to say next. "I know a very wise…" Her hesitation was barely noticeable. "...Greybeard who talked to me once about morality. He posed to me a question that I find myself thinking about frequently. 'What is better: to be born good, or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?' He had been the general of a war that had caused the deaths of thousands of people. He realized at some point that his side's philosophy was wrong and rebelled to help save the people he had previously helped terrorize. It was a long time ago, but he is still trying to find salvation. I like to think someday he'll realize his worth, just like I think you will."

"Thank you, Joldi," Erandur said, "but you don't know the horrible things I did."

"I don't need to," Joldi insisted. "I know what kind of person you are now. Besides, I wouldn't have a crush on someone who was bad." She paused as she realized what she said, blushing a pretty pink in the fire light.

"You have a crush on me?" Erandur stammered. That would explain her reaction earlier when he snapped at her.

"Yeah, well, I sort of have a bit of a preference for priests," Joldi giggled nervously. "I sort of have one back in Whiterun waiting for me."

"Oh," Erandur said dejectedly. He should have known someone as special as Joldi already had someone.

"It's okay, we're not exclusive," Joldi purred as she leaned over Erandur. "He has a vow of chastity, but I never made such promises and made it very clear before I left out. No one has any claim on me more than I'm willing to give."

"Is...is that so?" Erandur asked, swallowing hard. It felt too warm with her body pressed so firmly against his.

"It is. So, if you have any reason for me to stop what I'm doing," Joldi said as she tugged at the priest robes Erandur wore, "you better say something now. I also have a thing for bad boy rebels and you seem to fit that too."

"Absolutely none at all," Erandur answered. "Mara is love after all."

"Indeed," Joldi agreed before claiming the Dark Elf's lips. Her mouth was just as full and soft as he thought it would be as she tasted him.

Her weight settled heavily on his lap as she hiked his robes over his hips. For a moment he thought she would go ahead and pull it over his head, but instead she slipped her hands under the cloth to touch his bare chest. Calloused fingers danced over his muscles and scars, tracing the curve of each one as if memorizing them so she could ask about them later.

Once she was sated with exploring his chest, Joldi wrapped one hand around Erandur's waist as the other tangled in his hair. "Erandur," she moaned seductively in his ear before nibbling the lobe. The timbre of her voice was enough to send shivers down his spine, but the flickering of her tongue against his sensitive ear tip had his breathing jagged.

"Joldi," he whispered back, his voice trembling slightly. It had been a long time since he had lain with anyone and he felt like he barely remember what to do. Not sure what to do with his hands, he settled with placing them on her bottom, squeezing the deliciously round flesh. The Dragonborn's small gasp of pleasure before she started grinding against him gave him confidence to continue.

"I want you," she growled, suddenly impatiently pawing at his pants. "Oh, by the Nine, I want you in me so badly, Erandur. Please."

As eager as he was, he wasn't quite ready for her yet. Not wanting to disrupt the mood, the priest grabbed her wrist and pushed so he rolled on top of her.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Joldi demanded. Her curly red hair flared around her like a burning flame. She frowned prettily as she mildly struggled in his grasp.

"Being a bit of a rebel," the elf teased as he bunched her arms in one hand. "I thought you liked that."

"There's a time and place for everything," she pouted. However, she did stop struggling and her green eyes twinkled with curiosity, so she couldn't have been that vexed.

Erandur laughed before kissing her lips as a sort of apology. Joldi nipped his lip gently, but there was a smile as he pulled away. He trailed kisses down her throat as his free hand reached between her legs to pull her small clothes off. "What the…?" he muttered when he found nothing there. "Do you normally not wear underclothes?"

"A girl can hope and be prepared for anything," Joldi murmured demurely, unable to hide her smirk.

"I think you've got a bit of a bad girl streak yourself," Erandur mocked.

"Never said I wasn't," Joldi shot back.

"I'll keep that in mind," Erandur said as he settled between her legs. The sharp musk of her sex filled his nose, making his mouth water with desire to taste her. He slid his hands under her ass to better position her before pressing his tongue against her slit.

Joldi was already wet and swollen with arousal, but as Erandur lapped against her nub, he reveled in her cries of pleasure. The Nord chanted his name over and over as she writhed under him. Strong fingers dug into his scalp as she pulled on his hair.

All this only encouraged the elf to press his face harder against her as he slipped two fingers inside. Joldi screamed as she wrapped her legs around his neck, locking her ankles hard against his back. She thrashed wildly as he flickered his tongue against her while his fingers stroked her sex.

"Oh, sweet Mara!" Joldi cried. "Oh, Talos! Fucking Dibella! By the Nine, Erandur, I'm coming!" The Dragonborn continued to rant various curses and praises as she came undone beneath him. She flopped bonelessly as he raised up on his elbows. Panting breathlessly, she scowled, "You are absolutely rotten."

"I'm not even close to done," Erandur taunted. He grabbed Joldi and threw her over a nearby log. "I haven't gotten my due yet."

"Eek!" Joldi exclaimed playfully, her feet kicking in the air as the priest settled behind her. He impatiently jerked his pants down enough to free his aching erection. The sight of Joldi's white, plump ass wiggling in the air was making him throb with desire.

Erandur grabbed her hips and plunged within her until he was fully hilted against her. Joldi cried as he filled her. She clutched the log as she looked over her shoulder at him. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes a bit glazed. "What do you think you're doing back there, old man?"

"I'm going to fuck you senseless, young lady," he growled as he grabbed a handful of her luxurious hair. He pulled tight, jerked her head back so she was arched against him. He bit her neck, leaving a red mark bright against her pale skin. "And you're going to like it."

Her groans and cries invigorated him as he thrust hard into her without abandon. Erandur hadn't felt this unrestrained for a long time. The feeling of her walls clenching around his cock, the slick wetness of her arousal running down their legs, the soft flesh of her breasts in her hand as he squeezed her. All of it was intoxicating as Erandur fucked the Dragonborn.

"Gods, Erandur, yes, like that, yes, don't stop, please, please fuck me harder!" Joldi screamed. She was bent over the log, almost face first in the snow. If the cold bothered her, she didn't let it show as she writhed harder and harder against his thrusts. It probably felt amazingly good given how flushed her flesh felt against his. Erandur felt like he was burning up in his robes, but he couldn't stop long enough to rip them off.

With a guttural growl, Erandur came. His orgasm was so intense, he almost wasn't sure he would be able to finish it. His balls retracted hard against him as he peaked. He gasped as the pleasure almost became too painful to bear, but he rode Joldi until his seed was fully spent.

He slumped against her, his breathing erratic and his heart beating too fast. But he felt relaxed and satisfied in a way he hadn't in years.

Wearily, Erandur slipped his hand between Joldi's legs to help bring her to completion at least manually, but was surprised when she swatted him away.

"You didn't come," he commented as he rolled onto his back.

"Not the second time," she agreed, panting herself, "but that first time was more than enough. I'm actually a bit overly sensitive right now. I don't think we'd get anywhere if you tried."

"You should have said something," Erandur said contritely. "I wouldn't have…." He trailed off, suddenly too shy and flustered to continue.

"Ridden me so hard?" Joldi finished, unabashed. She laughed. "There's not enough septims in the world to have made me stop you then. I wanted to see what you had in mind and it was well worth the soreness I'll feel there tomorrow."

Erandur flushed from the comment. "I, uh, I'm sorry," he stammered, the tips of his ears flushed dark with embarrassment.

"Take the compliment for what it is," Joldi said, kissing his cheek. She curled up in his arms, snuggling against him. "I love you, you know."

"I love you too," Erandur said, kissing her temple. He had never told anyone that before, but this felt like more comfortable and familiar territory at least. It wasn't just a romantic or passionate love, but the love of friends and family. Mara's love. And that he knew all about.

"Ugh, I feel gross," Joldi complained as she wiggled out of her dress. Despite being completely naked, she didn't seem to mind the cold in the slightest. She yawned, her mouth a wide maw. She cracked one eye open to look at him, an impish grin on her lips. "I'm going to nap and then I'm going to see what else you have in you."

"I guess I'm not going to get much sleep tonight either," Erandur playfully lamented.

"Probably not, but at least when I finally let you sleep, it will be well," Joldi teased, sticking her tongue out at him as she snuggled against him and pulled the furs closer. "It's wonderful to be able to sleep soundly, don't you think?"

As he made his own place next to Joldi and closed his eyes for a blissful nap, Erandur couldn't agree more.


End file.
